Page 176 of Faking the Goal

I glance down at my dress.

"I was actually worried I might've gone a little overboard."

He looks genuinely confused.

"You think so?"

I nod.

"I've never really... done this before. Christmas dinner." A sheepish laugh escapes me. "I wasn't exactly sure what people wear to these things."

He smiles.

"I don't think there's a dress code."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"You could've shown up in pajamas and Mom probably would've called you beautiful anyway."

I laugh.

"That's because your mom is the sweetest woman on the planet."

"True."

He gives a small nod.

"But..." His eyes flick briefly to my dress before meeting mine again. "You can wear whatever makes you feel good."

A smile slowly spreads across my face.

"Thanks."

I tilt my head, taking a better look at him.

"You don't look too bad yourself."

His brow arches.

"'Not too bad?'"

I grin.

"I'm trying not to inflate your ego."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

Tonight, Kentaro traded his usual hoodie for a fitted black blazer over a black polo, the top buttons left casually undone. Cream-colored dress pants completed the outfit, somehow striking the impossible balance between polished and effortless.

It should be illegal for one person to make "I just threw this on" look that unfairly attractive.

"I appreciate your restraint," he deadpans.

I bump my shoulder lightly against his as we continue down the hallway.

"You're welcome."